The Night Rite
by xroannax
Summary: Feyre is out hunting in the Spring Court to clear her head. Just when she starts questioning a certain bargain that needs to be upheld she gets payed a visit by the High Lord of the Night Court. She knows why he is here, but does she really know why Rhysand decided to collect her today of all days?
1. Chapter 1

Feyre POV

The doe-eyed deer stares back at me. Her large, brown eyes look as though they are peering into the inner depths of my soul. The gaze penetrates through the cracks of the wall I have built up in my mind since we left Under the Mountain. The walls that are blocking the guilt that threatens to seep through the fissures from the darkest corners of my conscience. The faces of the two Fae I had killed, their expressions before my knife struck home, relay through my mind whenever I am alone.

The bowstring makes a hushed stretching noise as I pull it past my ears and I angle my chin upwards, causing my lips to lightly brush against the fine texture of the string. I switch off all the background noise; the tweeting of merry birds high up in the willow trees and the rushing of water from a stream nearby. All I focus on is the deer frozen in position and staring straight back at me. The innocent gaze is torturing me and I let out a quick rush of breath as I exhale and the arrow goes soaring through the fresh spring air. A thud echoes throughout the forest clearing and I trudge my way to the body allowing the sounds of wildlife to flood back through my ears.

She's a pretty thing. Her white speckled coat is glossy in the sunlight that streams through the clearing of the willows overhead. Its fur is bronze and soft and the light picks out the golden highlights that weave through it.

Just like the colour of my hair.

It's been nearly a month since we left the old sacred mountain and the Spring Court has been thriving with festivities in honor of Tamlin and the restoration of the court. Houses have been filled; laughter replaces the solitude silence that used to hang over the expanse of the spring lands. It's strange when everyone around you is happy and joyous and your not. I want to be there for Tamlin, and I am. But it is only Tamlin and Lucien who notice my unusual silence and my withdrawn expressions during social occasions. Tam is worried; I catch him staring at me when my laugh is perhaps a little too delayed when someone cracks a joke at a gathering. He stays quiet though, knowing that he needs to give me some space and that approaching the matter will only make me more upset.

Sighing, I cross the last few steps towards the deer and reach down to remove the arrow from her neck. However, I pause suddenly and stare at the spindling black markings that wind their way up to my elbow, looking like a lace glove. The pattern of thorns and flowers decorate my tanned arm and circle around it. No members of the Night Court have been present at the spring festivities and there has been no word of Rhysand either. The month is nearly up and Rhys has not yet sent for me to uphold my end of the bargain we made Under the Mountain. I take my lips between my teeth and subconsciously chew, deep in thought. Where is Rhysand? And what in the world did he see on my face that night that made him _stumble_?

As if answering my thoughts, I suddenly notice a presence that was not in the clearing before I shot the deer. The familiar tug that comes from my hand forces me to turn around and my gaze slowly inches upwards.

Rhysand stares at me and a half-smile tugs at the corner of his sensuous lips. He leans against a trunk of a tree, relaxed and composed with not a care in the world. His violet eyes bore into mine and warmth spreads throughout my lower stomach and sets me tingling. My heightened senses note the calm rate of his breathing and my own picks up as he runs his eyes down my form lazily. Finally his eyes meet mine again.

"Feyre, darling. I'm sorry for interrupting your little hunting trip, but I believe we both have a place to be." A knowing look accompanies his caress of a voice, low and erotic.

I try and throw all of my fire into the glare I give him which results in him letting out a breathy chuckle at my stubbornness. "I'm not going." I say, and clench my jaw as he saunters over until he is staring right down at me.

"But I believe we had a deal. Do I need to recall the terms for you?"

"No," I reply trying to settle my pulse at his nearness, "One week every month at the Night Court. That was the bargain."

"Indeed. And I have come to collect your end." An amused smile spread across his handsome features. The sunlight casts a glow on his high cheekbones and contrasts against his now tanned dark facial features. "Come." He sweeps his arm outwards in a graceful gesture signifying me to walk with him. Reluctantly, I leave the fallen deer behind.

"Do I need to get anything? I should go and tell Tam-"

"That won't be necessary." Rhys smoothly interrupts, "Everything that you shall need awaits in the Night Court. As for Tamlin…" I eye him suspiciously and raise an eyebrow and my mouth opens about to ask him a question but he simply gives me one look and my mouth shuts.

Darkness surrounds us and through it I see a whorl of gold and silver stars that glitter over a beautiful white palace set on top of a high mountain. " The Night Court awaits." Rhys calls and the breeze of a summer night and magical spread of a thousand lights envelope me and everything goes black.

Tamlin POV

The rustling of papers and tap of my nails on the polished wooden desk resounds throughout the small study. Things have been busy since Amarantha's death and lots of chores need to be made. Groaning, I arch my back to relieve myself from crouching over the table and make my way over to the windows that look out on the sprawling green gardens of my manor. My muscles loosen and I lean against the wall looking at the edge of the forest that encompasses the house. Feyre went hunting today and hasn't been back for a couple of hours and I kept finding myself turning towards the forest and waiting to see her immerse from the clearing whilst laboring over schedules and letters from the other high lords of Prythian earlier today.

About to inquire one of the servants on her whereabouts, Lucien enters, his red hair streaming behind him as he warily makes his way into the study. He seems to be holding back from saying something and I immediately know something is wrong. "What is it?" I demand and I curse myself over the underlying quiver of my voice and cover up my rising fear by pushing off the wall and making my way toward my oldest friend.

"It's Feyre." Lucien replies and I note the barely concealed anger that shows in his remaining gold eye. I tense and I feel my claws prick my skin as I curl my fists. "Rhysand has come to take her to the Night Court." My nostrils flare and I catch myself before I bring my fists down onto the study desk. An ugly growl rumbles in the back of my throat at the thought of Feyre with him.

With Rhysand.

"It gets worst Tam," Lucien adds and I notice his hands curl into fists as well, mirroring mine, "Tonight is a special night."

" _What do you mean?"_ I answer with a deadly quiet tone.

"Tonight, in the Night Court, is the Great Rite." An icy wash of cold drowns me in dread. "Rhysand is taking Feyre to the _Calanmai_."


	2. Chapter 2

Feyre POV

The darkness peels back from my vision and an expanse of white spotless marble surrounds me from all sides. As I angle my chin skywards, a porcelain dome like structure soars impossibly high and I marvel at the intricate gold and silver spirals that decorate the ceiling. The metallic stars look down on me and I suddenly feel very small in comparison to the gargantuan palace walls.

Rhysand quietly chuckles at my wonderstruck expression and takes my arm as he leads me down a long hallway. A warm summer night breeze envelopes me as it gently streams through the open sides of the airy corridor and I can't suppress my gasp as I admire the view.

 _I am in the Night Court and it's magnificent_. My breath is quite literally taken away from me as I stare at the snow-capped mountains and green hills that roll beneath them. Rhysand's palace must sit on top of one of the many steep mounds that circle around the manor. The ground stretches impossibly far beneath me. Silently detaching myself from Rhys's grip, I make my way over to the cool balustrade and lean against it as if in a daze. _No wonder he seemed to miss his court so much._

The thing that really does stop me from breathing however is the crystal lit sky that luminously twinkles from up above. My heightened senses make the view even more compelling and I have a sudden urge to sit down and rip out a canvas and paint to try and recreate the landscape that expands outwards right before my eyes. I can't remember the last time I had wanted to paint so _badly_ , the last time I truly noticed the beauty of nature itself.

"It's beautiful," I breathe. I can't seem to stop my mouth from falling open as I run my eyes across the sparkling constellations and memorise every detail.

"It is isn't it," Rhys replies. I glance sidelong at him and notice the upward tilt of his lips and the glittering of his violet orbs as he also takes in the enchanting view. He seems so at peace and looks completely relaxed back in his home.

He fits in perfectly. I can't help but notice the lifting of the shadows that I have grown so accustomed to seeing deep in his eyes since I've known him. A vision of Rhys unleashing his bird form and gliding throughout the starry night sky brings a bit of comfort to my otherwise fluttering stomach. _At least one of us is happy._

This dowses my spirits and I withdraw myself from the marble wall. As I clear my throat, Rhys notices my awkwardness and sighs as he probably wades through the barrels of unpleasant thoughts that swarm my mind.

I already miss Tamlin. The ache in my chest seems to spread throughout my body and I definitely notice the absence of his scent of freshly cut grass and sun kissed skin. His court could not be more different than Rhys's, where here it was all night and stars and in Spring it was flowers and sunshine.

Since I've been distant from Tam, I now know that I've taken him for granted as I stand here now. Distant and so, so far away from the man I love.

And now I am with Rhysand. Of all the people I could be with in Prythian, it has to be him.

My feet seem to be moving of their own accord and with an obscene curse, I glare at the High Lord that strides next to me and realise _he_ is the one who is making my legs move.

"Stop that!" I demand. I try to root my feet into the floor and plant myself in a defiant position but my feet keep on gliding across the ground.

"Feyre, I couldn't have you standing like a pillar right in the middle of the corridor. And it was rude for you to have left your jaw hanging loose and staring dumbly into the distance," he replies with his signature smooth, elegant tone, "You never know what could fly in when you leave your mouth open like that!" He adds with mock scorn seeping through his words.

"You never know what could happen when my fist connects with your jaw!" I retort with my eyes burning a whole inbetween his shoulder blades.

As always, he only answers with an amused chuckle and we turn down a corner and strut through a large set of towering byzantium doors with the ever-occurring swirl of gold and silver embellishments over the top.

We're in a luxurious bedroom that could be fit for any queen. The incredibly large four-poster canopy bed with lavish purple silk sheets and a navy padded headboard is on the right side of the gigantic room. The sheer strips of fabric that hang from the top of the bed swing lazily in the gentle breeze that moves through the open balcony doors on the far side of the room. The coloured fluffy rug matches the headboard and covers most of the rich dark wooden floor. I slide my eyes to the right and peer through double doors into an all white gleaming en suite.

"This is to be your bedroom for whenever you stay at the Night Court." Rhysand says from behind me. I'm about to take a step into the chamber when the same two blonde serving girls that painted and dressed me Under the Mountain appear through the dark walls. I will never get used to how they can simply glide through anything and immerse themselves from shadows at any given point. I suppose Rhys doesn't need bells or doesn't have to clap his hands to get anyone's attention. He can simply just command them to his side just by talking to them through their brain.

"The girls will get you dressed and ready for tonight's events." He adds and swiftly turns, ready to leave. But I interrupt him before he can escape.

"And what are these events that you're talking about?"

"Where is the fun in telling you? It's a surprise," he has the nerve to wink, "I'll see you in a few hours." And then he leaves.

I will praise our old forgotten gods when the day arrives and he gives me a straight answer.

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Tam POV

The setting sun's blazing array of orange and reds torch across the sky. Normally, the sunset would bring me peace and I would remember the time that Feyre and I sat together on the field and talked about our deepest feelings, our hands clasped tightly inbetween us.

I could not be farther from feeling calm right now.

The anticipation of black being pulled across the sky only sets me more on edge and the agonizing tick of a clock resounds through my head. I haven't got much time until night comes and Rhysand's Great Rite will begin. _Until Feyre could be taken away from me forever._

The muffled thud of the hooves of Lucien and I's horses vibrates against the ground as we thunder our way to the entrance that takes us to the Night Court. The tunnel that is a few miles from my manor will hopefully lead us straight into tonight's festivities.

Our dark cloaks stream behind the two of us as we approach the pathway surrounded by fragmented rocks. The horses shift nervously and we tie their reins to nearby trees.

"I have a feeling this is a very, very stupid idea." Lucien mutters as we wearily make our way to the dark entrance.

"It's the only way we can save her," I throw to him over my shoulder, "Just trust me alright, and follow my lead." I don't wait for an answer as the blackness swallows me whole. As we both cautiously step forward, a strike of a match is lit not too far down the tunnel and my thoughts race at an epic speed. These paths haven't been used in half a century, what are the chances that someone else is using them tonight?

All this flies through my mind in the space of a few seconds before a deep, lilting voice confirms my suspicions. _Shit._

"Why good evening, gentlemen," _It's_ _Azriel._ "We've been expecting you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello Everyone!**

 **I uploaded! Thanks for all the amazing reviews, I'm so glad that you are enjoying this story and that the ACOTAR fandom is growing. WOOOOOO!**

 **Ive read all of your kind messages, thanks heaps 3**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

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Tamlin POV

A snarl erupts from my mouth at the sound of Azriel's lilting voice. "Get out of my way Nightling, before I tear your vocal cords out from your throat." He only lets out an amused laugh. It's as though every citizen of the dreaded Night Court finds every single thing highly entertaining.

"You know Tam, It's been a while since we've crossed paths," The young man composed of all shadows lets out a thoughtful hum, "When was the last time I was graced with your godly presence? Oh- I know. Front lines of the human border. Some hundred years ago, I reckon. We were conjuring up one of your scandalous poems. Don't you remember?" He leans against the stonewall, sounding as though he was discussing the weather, "We were with Rhysand- if I remember correctly."

He smirks as Lucien and I tense at the mention of the High Lord. A glint in his midnight eyes twinkles as his smile becomes cold and calculating. Ever the strategist.

"What are you doing here, Azriel?" Barks Lucien as he strides to my side. He mirrors the expression Azriel wears. Lucien and him used to be friends once upon a time. But that was long before Amarantha slithered her way into Prythian and took control of all the courts. Before the Night and Spring courts were enemies.

"Why, I'm stopping you from ruining our festivities. That is what you are trying to do, isn't it?" One innocent look, a knowing smile.

"Bored out of your mind?" Lucien pushes, "Has nothing exciting occurred now that you people have no one to terrorise?" He spits.

"No, actually. Things have been incredibly invigorating since we've returned home. However, I have felt rather at a loss with myself over the past few days. A man can only go so long without taunting his rivals." He pulls out a sharp throwing knife from his pants and picks under his nails with the gleaming blade.

"Let's solve that problem right now, shall we?" He leers.

The knife sings through the dark tunnel, quick as a lighting bolt, and sails through the air. The blade narrowly misses Lucien's head and his crimson hair shifts in the dim lighting as he ducks and rolls, whipping out his sword.

We launch into action. Azriel's cronies spiral into solid forms and the sound of low grunts and the clashing of steel echoes farther down the pathway.

I feel Lucien's back against mine, both of our muscles knotted in anticipation.

"Not so confident now, are we boys?" Azriel sings. He gives up the careless charade and the sneer in his voice bounces off the slick narrow walls. The circle of men close in on us and we spring into motion. My twin swords already in my hands, I easily slice through the shadow in front of me. The body lurches to the side and I use my strength to barrel through two others and they are knocked unconscious within seconds. I don't even have to glance over my shoulder to know Lucien has cut through two shadows. His knife that was strapped to his hip stabs through another and he rams his bow into someone's temple.

Azriel's menacing glee radiates from him as he stands before me. His knees slightly bent and knives at the ready he makes a rapid arc and aims for my legs.

He can't kill me; my death would trigger a war the second word got out that I was slaughtered. It's obvious I have the advantage.

However, like Rhysand, Azriel has been killing on the battlefields for centuries and is renowned for the deadly warrior that lurks beneath his iridescent skin.

With only two of the enemies left, Lucien barrels past and swings his leg up and clips the other Nightling on the side of the head. The killing blow is delivered instantly and within a second the shadow man is on the damp dirt.

The pair of us makes our way around Azriel who is in the center and all our bodies are stooped low to the ground, power beginning to build from the backs or our legs. Shoulders down, and knives at the ready, we continue to intimidate the young fae with predatory intent.

"Well, boys. It seems as though your golden girl has made you dim-witted. Do you really expect you would have been able to pass through Night's borders? _Stupid fools._ " Azriel makes a dismissive gesture and my barely concealed rage starts to boil.

"We have knocked down all of your men, Azriel. So its seems that it is two against one." I tighten my grip on my now slippery red twin swords.

"Oh, no bother. I can take your _emissary_ down in a heartbeat," his lips pull back in an animalistic expression to show sharp gleaming teeth, "But you dear Spring Lord, might pose a bit of a challenge. Never fear I've had lots of practice with pompous bastards." He tilts his beautifully crafted sword and the light reflects off the shining blade.

My temper snaps.

Lucien and I rush at the man who radiates darkness. Azriel only chuckles and my rage flickers like a candle dancing in the breeze.

"Fools," he mutters and the two of us, prepared to bury our weapons in flesh, fall through… nothing. We trip and nearly collide with each other but our grace kicks in and we falter and straighten our spines immediately.

Azriel has disappeared.

And with a whoosh of wind, the torch that rested on the compacted ground goes out.

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Feyre POV

You have got to be kidding me.

As I peer into my own blue-gray eyes, the two servant women walk through the wall and I suppress my shiver. The glowing moonlight that filters through the open balcony doors glints off the gold brocaded mirror in front of me.

Once again, because I am in Rhysand's company I am dressed in none other than a scandalous, revealing dress. However, I seem to prefer the elaborately decorated gown that is draped all over me now then the gossamer piece of fabric that I used to wear Under the Mountain.

Even if it is still completely inappropriate.

The red translucent material that covers my arms and the rest of my body hardly leaves anything to one's imagination. The fabric is visible enough that you can see every single curve and line of my shape. Gold metallic patterns cover the red and appear to make me look regal and rich.

The scanty strips of dark red barely support and cover my breasts and the long sheer material molds my sides and flows out into four panels of thin skirts. However, this leaves my stomach and thighs exposed and shimmering decorations cover my skin.

My eyes travel upwards and I admire the work of art that has been created on my face. Glamorous dark lines of kohl outline my eyes to create a feline look and rouge is lathered skillfully on my now fuller lips. I look like a fierce goddess.

My hair has been curled in big windblown spirals off my face and the bronze waterfall travels lazily down my back. Even if I do feel exposed, I reluctantly highly appreciate the work of the other women and allow myself a small smile.

"Admiring yourself?" A caress of a voice makes me spin around, my skirts tangling around my legs. Rhys rakes his eyes up and down over my form and I suddenly wish I was wearing something more comforting. His lips in that smirk of his makes me shift and I can't help but notice the drooped eyelids that capture me in a smoldering look.

"You do look ravishing, if I say so myself." His deep, lilting tones threatens to force rising red on my cheeks and I am grateful for the cosmetics that cover my skin.

I feel a scowl that creases the place inbetween my eyes, "Where are we going, Rhysand?"

"Ah, yes. The festivities await," He crooks his elbow and beckons me over with a graceful tilt of his head, "Shall we?"

I force my legs to stride over to him. "Please stop that with your face, love. It ruins your pretty looks." And I let out a snort.

But I make a decision. If I was going to have to wear this dress all night I would wear it with confidence. So I angle my chin up and move my shoulders back. And I don't miss the proud smile of Rhysand's mouth.

"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?" I ask as we make our way through numerous white halls. We pass no one and I wonder where all of the Lord's citizens are.

"No, Feyre. You'll find out soon enough," he lilts, "At least you don't need to worry about the wine this time. Your system will be able to process everything indeed." And I throw him a disapproving stare.

"Lighten up! Tonight will be an evening of entertainment. There's no need to be in bad spirits." He exclaims and flicks my nose as we approach a set of enormous double doors.

I just let out an amused sigh as they open on their own accord and a fire lit field unravels before my eyes. Drums echo in the distance and their music sounds familiar. Crowds encompass the sprawling grounds and I swear I hear the twinkle of starlight streaming through the gentle wind.

It all clicks.

"This is the Rite," I breathe in awe and an undercurrent of fear and anticipation rings through my words and I turn to the High Lord staring at me, "You bought me to Calanmai?" The disbelief is clearly written all over my face.

His erotic and sensual voice accompanies his sweeping gesture indicating the scenery, "Enjoy, darling."

The sound of my swallow echoes throughout the night.

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 **PS: For those of you wondering the dress that Feyre is wearing is taken off a pin from Sarah's Pinterest board!**


	4. Chapter 4

**HELLO LOVELIES!**

 **First of all, I'm so grateful for all the wonderful responses from you guys. It's so cool that you want to read this story and thank you for all your supportive and encouraging reviews. They make my day!**

 **I understand when someone doesn't upload for a while and you really want them to (trust me, I get it!) and I apologise for the lack of uploads on this story :( I'll keep writing coz i am now on holidays so i promise to bang out some chapters and upload them soon!**

 **Hope you enjoy! xx**

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Feyre POV

Rhys murmurs something to me and the warmth of his body suddenly dissipates, but I don't hear his words through the cloudy emotions that fog my mind. _How did I not know that it was Fire Night tonight? At the Night Court?_ Bloody typical, Rhys always has a motive, is always one step ahead. I should have known. But why bring me here?

To taunt Tamlin. Obviously. It seems that is one of the High Lords greatest pleasures in life. If only I knew of the Lords' competitive history, of the reason for the ever threatening looks I never seemed to miss transpired between the two. Between the fae who radiates sunshine and the smell of fresh grass and the one who molds shadows to his powerful form and where the twinkle of starlight shines elusively in the depths of his violet orbs.

The sudden whoosh of a gentle breeze stirs the lovely fragrance of flowers through the air and the crackle of the many fires dotted around the wide field merges with the rushing sound of my blood in my ears. My heart rate picks up and I try to take in the blur of pale, vicious faces that all seem to hold a dark sense of desire. A desire that I can feel in my very bones, from the entangled shadows I try to ignore in the dim nooks of the palace's corners to the purposeful sultry brushing of lean and curved bodies as I stand alone in the crowd.

Where has Rhys gone? I turn in slow circles, in search of a head adorned with short raven-haired locks when a supple body casually nudges me in my back. I whirl, a retort on the tip of my tongue aimed to be shot at a certain someone who deliberately attempted to get a little too comfortable when I freeze.

Instead of expecting a vicious, hungry male lurking behind me, a woman with rich dark brown curls and a smirk that I wonder is permanently glued to her mouth stands in a way that emphasizes her generous curves. I have to tilt my head downwards ever so slightly to stare into the stranger's dark, feline eyes and the lady cocks her head to the side, plain amusement written across her aristocratic features.

I glance at her dark red lips as she says, "I've been looking for you. Rhysand tells me that you may be in need of a companion tonight, given that he is slightly," she pauses, " _busy_ at the moment." There's laughter in her mahogany eyes and her voice is so alluringly deep and smooth that even though she speaks softly, there is a confident firmness in her words that I have to silently admire the way she carries herself. Even though she is small, her presence is so conspicuous that I don't miss the approving glances thrown her way by many males and females mingling in the close crowd.

"And you are?" My skeptical glance combined with the reluctance to trust her must have been communicated across because she reaches out a crooked elbow and offers me her arm. I take it as she presses closer.

"My name is Amren. I'm a close friend of Rhys and it looks like you need a friend." She throws a knowing look over her shoulder as she pushes through a group of fae in front of us. The group leers and stares but where as I am completely uncomfortable with the attention, Amren relishes in it.

Still casting wary looks towards my surroundings I reply, "Yes. It seems as though Rhys has dumped and left me," a young high fae's hand reaches out to my side and I swerve around his arm, "I'm not surprised though. He's got more pressing matters to deal with than to be hovering around a new spring fae." I laugh under my breath at the complete absurdity of what my life is like now. And how much it's changed just in the past year.

Amren only hums distantly and leads me to what looks like a food and drink stand near the field's edge. "Even though Rhys may look like he doesn't give two cauldrons about you, I can see it in his eyes."

"See what?"

"That he has a soft spot for you. You may be surprised at how much I think he misses your company." I let out a snort of disbelief.

"I highly doubt tha-"

She raises a skillfully sculpted eyebrow, "You should start being more observational, sweet." She lilts as she passes me a glass of sparkling wine.

I try to refuse the drink but she just presses it into my hand. Her black sheer skirt swishes around her legs as she leans in to my ear and whispers, "The effect won't be quite so dizzying considering your new form." I can here the chuckle underlying her words and red spills onto my cheeks remembering the rather scandalous actions I performed whilst under the influence of faerie wine, "Take a drink Feyre. You'll need it." The sudden grave tone makes me take a sip and the moment my lips touch the rim of the glass the familiar summoning sound of drums vibrates through my bones, makes my blood sing.

I almost start striding towards the calling right then, but Amren's pale, long fingers wrap around my wrist like a vise. She clicks her tongue, "Sorry, darling. You're staying right here with me." I'm almost relieved that she caught me but I can't deny the voice in the back of my head saying _go, go, go_ just like on Calanmai in the Spring Court. The pull in my gut is so much more intense than that night, probably due to my new fae body.

The atmosphere in the air is stifling but I want to inhale it so deeply, to feel the mass collective _need_ in myself. The sudden shift in my mood sends a delicious lick of excitement down my spine. I arch my back and even notice Amren trying to reel herself in.

"The call to take part in the Great Rite will be… intense. Be on your guard, Feyre." She gives me a sharp look, her depthless eyes bore into mine, "and don't do anything stupid." I barely have time to nod when the crowd of responding fae closes in around us and the force of the tide is so large, Amren and I have no choice but to move with it. Move towards the center of the ceremony.

Move towards Rhys.

Tamlin POV

"For Cauldron's sake, how the hell did we let that happen?" Lucien voices incredulously.

To be honest, I had no rutting idea. The bodies of the dozen slain nightlings are littered across the dirt compacted ground and the sound of our breathless pants echoes down the ongoing stone tunnel. We _had_ killed all the Night Court's gang.

Except for damn Azriel. He was no where to be found even after I lit the blown out torch and Lucien and I hurriedly searched the tunnel for the nightling bastard, one of Rhys's most trusted friends.

The thought of the High Lord sends yet another bolt of rage in me and racks throughout my body. Damn him for taking Feyre. But, there's no time for brooding, Feyre still remains the main priority.

I don't say anything to the red head as I continue striding down the drafty, damp corridor. Lucien scampers to keep up and yells at me to slow down. He angrily yanks my arm and I rip it out from his grasp in an instant and whirl.

"Come on! We have to hurry." I growl and make a move to keep walking when Lucien' voice rings strongly throughout the hall.

"There's no way we can make it to the Night Court on foot, Tamlin. Your rage has you blind sighted." I show my teeth but know he speaks the truth, "Pull your head out of your ass and _think_ about this for a moment."

I lean against the wall and check myself, "Ok, what do you suggest."

"You use your damn magic, you idiot. Change into your beast form and then allow me to shape shift as well. We can get there faster once we pass through Spring's borders," he sheaths his arrows, "Once we do that the tunnel will automatically teleport us to the Great Rite."

"Good idea," I agree, "But how are we going to enter the borders undiscovered? It's pretty hard for us to remain inconspicuous in the Night court of all places."

A feral grin spreads across his face, "Don't worry, brother. I've got us sorted." Before I can question him further he winks and says, "So now can you turn me into a giant fur ball? Obviously I'm not looking forward to it, but I'll do anything to save our stubborn little human." The expression in his eyes now matches his smile.

My face soon mirrors his and the sudden spur of magic fills the air.

The thundering of paws quickly resounds throughout the tunnel as we run down the path, around twists and turns until we vanish through the spell casted border and into the dreaded Night Court.


	5. Chapter 5

**HI EVERYONE! pls don't kill me, I know i haven't uploaded in a while. But here is Chapter 5! I decided to post this today because of the amount of reviews I got on the last chapter. Thank you everyone that did comment, you're amazing and you are all so kind.**

 **And wow! 86 followers?! You guys blow my mind! thanks for taking the time to read this story, it means a lot. Tbh, i'm just trying to cope until ACOMAF is released. I'm having severe withdrawals from the story (or rhysand haha whoops).**

 **This chapter is just from Feyre's POV. I just really wanted to describe Fire Night some more ;) btw i have a feeling next chapter will be... stimulating (if u kno what i mean ha).**

 **Thanks everyone! Here is Chapter 5! xxxxx**

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Feyre POV

The thread that tugs from my core makes me step forward and begin to ascend a grassy knoll. The almost possessed crowd urges me to keep walking, to keep leading me to wherever we are going. They move with a primal stillness but I can sense the hungry need that practically radiates from the many bodies that shift up against my own. There is no doubt that the official Fire Night ceremony will soon commence.

Slight anxiety made my fingers twitch. My sweaty palms grapple onto the narrow blood red strips of gossamer that continue to cling to my legs and the colour most certainly matches my now flushed cheeks as a young male behind me brushes up against my back. Every time a struck of drums resonates throughout the clearing it seems as though the gathering of high fae subconsciously bind together. Closer and closer.

"Where are we going?" I direct my question at Amren who now has a slight sheen of sweat glimmering on her brow.

"We are moving toward the hunting area. Where Rhys will track and hunt the Black Panther to use as an offering to the Eddies of the Cauldron." She licks her lips as we reach the crest of the hill.

"So he won't kill a White Stag? As Tamlin did?" The thought of Tam clouds my mind and I crave his presence suddenly. Glimpses of his bright green eyes, gold liquid hair and the smell of spring rains invade my senses.

"Rhys," Amren's molten brown eyes slide to mine and a simpering smirk makes her eyes turn even more cat like, "will hunt our court's specific animal that ties with the Night Court. Just as your High Lord hunted Spring's stag." I lock the piece of information away and my breath hitches.

The damp green slope descends into a circular area with granite rocks that mimic giant steps that climb towards the breathtaking sky of purple, dark blue and silver whorls. But in between the glimmering rocks cascades the true spectacle. A glowing waterfall of beaming turquoise maneuvers in between cracks and crevices, casting the trees around the grove with a magical light. The pool of green meets in the center of the area and the laps of water against the smooth rocks creates a relaxing and mystic melody.

"This is Obsidian Lagoon. Our legends state that this was one of the first landforms that the Eddies created during the formation of Prythian." The reflection of the pool does not show in Amren's eyes even as we walk to the waters edge.

"It's amazing," I bend down and cup my hand in order to scoop out the otherworldly substance but Amren snatches my arm.

"Not yet, love," Her voice is hushed as she raises her gaze, "The hunt is starting." I turn and Rhys appears on the opposite side of the pool. Shirtless, with pigmented purple paint marring his powerful body in swirls and markings.

She breathes beside me and whispers, "Let Calanmai begin."

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Standing atop the Lagoon's obsidian rocks, Amren and I, along with the rest of the group of High Fae latch our eyes onto Rhys's distant form. As he weaves in and out of the lush, shadowed forest he occasionally kneels, analyzing the tracks of what must be the Black Panther.

His back muscles flex and unflex, arms gripping his bow and his deep blue eyes scan his line of sight. I can't help but notice the wanting looks from surrounding females that follow his every move, that linger in places that brings a blush to my cheekbones. I will the redness to fade, only because it's ridiculous. Ridiculous for even noticing. For even noticing his strong, defined chest and stomach and broad shoulders.

 _It's just another male body_ , I tell myself. Just another body that is so similar to Tamlin's, if only for the difference in their skin colour. Pounds of muscle built up through so many centuries. But of course that useless part of me has to catalogue the way the light from the moon does not touch him but instead hovers around the tendrils of shadows that move in the gentle breeze.

Rhysand's head snaps upwards and that is when I know he has found the panther. His eyes narrow and he lowers himself silently into a crouch. His shapely arms extend over his shoulder to the quiver strapped at his back and he skillfully plucks an arrow and positions it along the string in a matter of seconds. All of this done so effortlessly and swiftly that I admire his technique and wish that I could've done that back in my bare wood, providing for my family.

He angles his head and his sultry lips graze the string of his bow. Thanks to my heightened vision, I spot the panther lounging atop a tree, it's thick midnight tail lazily swishing back and forth. I nearly gasp at the shear size of it. I can barely see through the foliage covering its body but its eyes- oh its eyes- so golden and bright, stand out like a shooting star amongst the darkness that molds itself to the creature.

The image of its russet gaze is imprinted on my mind and I almost protest as Rhys releases the arrow as it soars through the air and punctures the panther's front, where it's heart would be. In a matter of moments, the animal's life stopped. A short and painless death.

Such cultivated beauty, taken from the land so quickly. I secretly hide my disdain and sympathy for the creature and promise to myself that one day, when- if- I could ever bring myself to paint again, the golden eyes of the panther will be the first subject I will grace the canvas with.

The crescendo of drums scatters my thoughts and the shouts of praise and hoots of laughter reverberate throughout my body. However, my sight remains locked on Rhysand who extinguishes a breath and loosens his shoulders. I immediately notice tendrils of shadows rise and snake their way up Rhys's legs and encase his body. The darkness then dissipates into his alabaster skin and he lifts his head up to the sky in triumph.

"Rhys has now allowed powerful magic to enter his body," Amren murmurs. Her eyes widen with excitement, "he will not be the same man you spoke with earlier today." I narrow my eyes as he opens his arms wide to each side, as if _embracing_ the dark and inhaling its smell, allowing it to fill his lungs.

He lowers his head and faces the crowd. They all brace themselves in anticipation as his eyes rack the group. I nearly stumble as his gaze lands on me. His eyes beforehand had already been such a vibrant violet, but now due to the magic, they are so incredibly bright, creating a stark contrast to the shadows wrapping around his body.

"And now for the Hunter to choose the Maiden!" Someone declares a few heads down. A collective intake of breaths fill the pregnant silence.

A faint smirk graces Rhys's features as he continues to pin me with his stare.

Everyone moves in front and behind but I stay rooted into place. By the time my vision clears, the spot where Rhys stood is empty and only Amren and I still stand in the lagoon.

"Let's go, Feyre." Amren smoothly turns and starts to walk over the hill and towards the bonfires.

"Go where?" I question as I clench my fists. I already know the answer.

"To the mating cave, of course." She doesn't look back.


End file.
